The way Near ate mashed potatoes could only be described as "cute." The word "cute", when searched on as Mello had immediately done after a dinner he had squirmed through while barely tolerating the utter cuteness of Near's tiny mouth and panda likeness, comes with a whole collection of synonyms:
"Adorable, beautiful, charming, dainty, delightful, pleasant, pretty, ambrosial, appealing, attractive, captivating, darling, dear, delectable," Mello cleared his throat, a severe pink flush tainting his pale skin, "um, delicious, dishy, dreamy, fetching, heavenly," he paused again, glancing up from his paper. The waves of Near's paper-white hair did indeed look heavenly. The boy himself was seated on the floor of his expansive bedroom, folding said heavenly locks between his fingers. He did not look at Mello.
"Hot, luscious, pleasing, precious, sexy, suave." It sounded almost like some bizarre rap song. This thought gave way to a strange image of Near in a bikini. Mello blushed a deeper shade of pink, now a rather shocking crimson, completely oblivious to the fact that Near had stopped playing with his hair. He was gazing at Mello in a way which meant business.
"You forgot bewitching. Ravishing." Mello peered at Near over the top of his paper. He wasn't surprised Near knew more synonyms than he did. "Foxy." That word, however, did surprise him.
"Ah. Yes. F-foxy." He srawled it in a sloppy jumble of letters at the top of the page. Beside 'beautiful'.
"I think that's the extent of 'cute' s' synonyms." Near said. "You're bound to get an 'A'." Their english assignment was an easy one, because it was the holidays, they were only expected to list all the synonyms for a word which, here was the twist, in their opinion described someone in their class.
"Thanks." Mello folded his paper over and stuffed it into the back pocket of his pants. "And thanks for those last, um, three words." He made to turn around, to scamper out of Near's room and away to his own, in which he could safely assess his unorthodox attraction to Near.
"Where are you going?" The younger boy spoke from the floor. "You haven't told me who 'cute' describes."
Mello blanched. He hadn't expected Near's interest. "Um, what?" He was doing the only thing he could think to do in times of distress: play dumb.
"Let me put it another way:" Near took one of Mello's dangling hands and held it in both of his. "Whom do you think is cute in English 4?"
Near's huge black eyes were pulling Mello down- or was that Near himself? Mello didn't really care at this point. His mind was racing for an appropriate answer to the boy's question:"YOU! I Think you're the cutest fucking thing I've ever seen! Frankly, I think I might love your intelligent little hiney!" And, because Mello was fourteen and hormonal: "Let's make love, Near! Right here in front of all your fucking robots and lego towers!" However, what he said instead surprised both of them:
"Matt!"
"Really?"
Near let go of Mello, letting him tumble rather unceremoniously onto the floor in front of him.
Maybe it was shyness, or perhaps a slip of the tongue. Mello could have just as easily proclaimed his love for Roger, their caretaker, in regards to how he felt about the redheaded headache that was Mail Jeevas. The boy laughed too loud, didn't listen, and seemed to get top grades without ever raising a finger. Mello loathed him. But now the damage was done. He couldn't find a way to rewind; the only thing he could do was go into fast-forwarded time. And for Mello, with nerves came anger. At himself and at Near for ever batting a lash in his direction.
"What do you care!" Mello pulled himself up off the floor, sending a swift kick to one of Near's towers. As he ran from the room, Mello could think only one thing: "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"
